Faith
by nicky69
Summary: Written for the FuhQFest Second Wave.Prompt: NickGil Dealing with the aftermath of the finale Gil having to make choices about Jim's life. AN: this is slash folks, if that's not your thing walk away now.Betaed by the lovely elmyraemilie.


Written for the Fuh-Q-Fest Second Wave on http/community. NNick/Gil -- Dealing with the aftermath of the finale-- Gil having to make choices about Jim's life

**Faith**

"Thanks for not pulling the plug."

Sitting alone in the hospital garden, Gil finds this one phrase echoing in his mind. After Jim had woken, he had managed to slip away from the bevy of well-wishers crowding the room and made his escape to the relative quiet of the gardens. He had needed a place to think, and not being a man noted for his religious inclination, he had rejected the hospital chapel and opted for the gardens instead. At this time of the day, the secret, pregnant hours of the pre-dawn, the world seems to be inhabited only by the night-shift workers or the terminally insomniac and he finds himself blessedly alone.

"Thanks for not pulling the plug."

Jim had meant the words to be taken lightly, but underneath the droll sarcasm, Gil could read the sincerity in his voice and the quiet gratitude in his eyes. It had been more than he could take and he had fled before any of the others could see his weakness. Sitting here now, alone, he feels the weight of his decision, his choice, finally catch up to him. He finds himself drowning in a sea of guilt and uncertainty and self-reproach.

In his time as a CSI, how many criminals has he sent to prison, how many potential victims has he saved? Too many and too few. Countless times he has held the lives of strangers in the palm of his hand, but this one life, the life of his friend outweighs them all. His friend whose unswerving faith in him had surprised, overwhelmed, and humbled him. His friend whom he had almostcould so easily have failed.

With a weary sigh, he drops his head into his hands, fingers seeking his temples in a vain effort to stave off the migraine that is building. He only gets them once or twice a year now, but when they come, they leave him drained and weak and he just can't face that on top of everything else.

"Gil?" Nick's voice floats out of the cool morning air, warming him with its insubstantial touch. "Are you out here, peanut?"

"Over here, Nicky," his voice is steady, calm even and he finds himself inordinately proud of his control. One look, however, at Nick's concerned face and he knows that that control is not mirrored in his face.

"God, baby, what's wrong? Are you OK? Talk to me, Gil. You're scaring me. Is it… is it Jim? Did the doctors say something…?"

Raising his hand to cut off Nick's anxious questions, he tries to speak, to reassure his lover, but finds that words for once are not forthcoming. As he sees Nick's face begin to pale, he reaches out his hand and tries again.

"No, Nicky, Jim's going to be just fine. The doctors say that with time he will make a full recovery. I just have a migraine coming on and I needed some air. I'll be fine in a minute."

Crouching before him, Nick brings his hands up to Gil's temples. His warm, practiced hands rub gentle, soothing circles, bringing relief and salvation.

"It's not just a migraine, Gil. Tell me what's really bothering you. Let me help you."

And suddenly, he can't hold on any longer. His oh, -so so-fragile control shatters in the face of his lover's honest concern, and he lets all his doubts, and worries come flooding out.

"I let him down, Nick. I held his life in the palm of my hand. I could just as easily have killed him."

"But you didn't, you saved him. Be happy, Gil, you saved Jim's life. He's going to live because of you."

He feels Nick's loving hands descend then, taking his face in a tender embrace and he feels the tears begin to flow unfettered down his face.

He knows that he has done the right thing; after all, Jim is alive and on the road to recovery. However, as he had stood there in the hospital, listening to the doctor as he laid out the cold, hard, clinical facts and explained the seriousness of Jim's condition, Gil had found himself seized with fear and incapable of action. He had listened to the evidence and found it lacking and in his time of greatest need, he was left totally adrift, with nothing to trust but his own instincts. Instincts that had almost gotten his best friend killed. If the doctors hadn't been able to bring Jim back, he didn't know what he would have done.

The feel of Nick's delicate touch as he wipes the tears of recrimination from his face brings him back to the present. Nick is looking at him, liquid brown eyes that search to his very core; he feels vulnerable, naked, and surprisingly calm. He finds his breathing slowing to match his lover's and feels his heart lighten as he sees nothing but love reflected in those beautiful orbs. Leaning in, Nick whispers words of comfort and love and truth.

"Gil. Jim placed his faith in you because he knew that you would do the right thing for him. He knew that you would fight for him and that when the time came, that you could make the hard decisions. He trusted you with his life and his death; as do I."

Taking Gil's mouth then in a tender kiss, Nick tried to show his beloved what words could not express, before pulling back once more to capture his lover's gaze.

"Never doubt, Gil, that you are a good man. Never doubt that I love you and never doubt that you did the right thing."

Seeing the naked love shining in his eyes, hearing the certainty in his tone and the devotion in his voice, Gil is once again humbled. Nick has placed his heart, his soul and his faith in Gil's hands and he would be a fool if he allowed his own insecurities to blind him to the wonder of that gift. Reaching out, he brings his trembling fingers to gently cup his love's face. In a voice so choked with emotion that that he hardly recognizes it as his own, he finds the courage and the strength to respond.

"In you, my love, for you my love; I have faith too."


End file.
